


(Day 11) Absurd

by mydwynter



Series: January Sherlock Vignette Challenge [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Gen, I'm serious about the crack, The Anderbeard, cracky crack, really quite cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 15:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydwynter/pseuds/mydwynter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The doors swung wide. "Where is he?!" Anderson burst into the busy lab area and all of the scientists stared.</i>
</p><p>Here endeth the life of the sacred Anderbeard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Day 11) Absurd

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> My mind rebels in stagnation. So every day for the month of January I'm posting a Sherlock vignette, born out of prompts from generators and friends alike, little pieces written quickly and posted, sketches made from words.
> 
> Today's prompt stems from a ridiculous conversation with a group of friends, but I'm not sure even any of us quite understood what was going to happen. I don't even know, guys. I don't even know.
> 
> Thanks to Mazarin221B for the beta.

The doors swung wide. "Where is he?!" Anderson burst into the busy lab area and all of the scientists stared. The frenzied man looked around at them, wild-eyed and pink-faced and sweating, still wearing a dun raincoat that made him look like he'd been playing detective. He had, in fact, tried wearing a deerstalker earlier in the week, but had concluded stalking deer was stupid because they never really did _anything_ —never mind something that needed to be detected—so he gave it up as a bad job and resigned the hat to the bin. So now he was left with only the raincoat and a beady-eyed look of suspicion on his face.

In the centre of the large Baskerville lab a burly man in a suit stepped up to him and did his best to tower over Anderson. He succeeded. "Sir, how did you get in—"

The man was interrupted by a loud bang and a hysterical yell of triumph coming from a neighbouring lab.

Anderson turned and ran towards the sound, pursued by that burly security officer, and skidded to a halt outside the lab. Acrid-smelling black smoke was rolling in great clouds through the open laboratory door and out into the corridor. Anderson peered through the miasma into the room.

"Holmes?!" he barked.*

Slowly the black fog receded and there sat Sherlock, hair even more on end than usual, with sooty-looking smudges all over his face, wearing a surprised-but-pleased expression. That expression turned a bit sadistic when he saw Anderson in the doorway. "Eureka!" he said with menace.

Anderson stomped into the room. "See here. If anything has happened to it—"

"Come come, Anderson. Threats?" Sherlock made a dismissive noise, stood up from the bench, and stretched with the insouciance of a job well done. He gestured around him at the blackened worktop and the lingering haze which, now that the initial petroleum smell had faded, smelled disconcertingly of burnt hair. "Look around you. Of course something has happened to it."

Rage coloured Anderson's face a dull red. "What. Have. You. Done."

"Experiment," Sherlock said blithely. "Obvious."

"You experimented on my beard?"

"And I blew it up." said Sherlock. "If you didn't insist upon leaving it around, we wouldn't be in this situation," he said, and crossed his arms.

Anderson blinked at him for several long seconds. Sherlock stared back. 

"This whole situation is _ridiculous_ ," Anderson finally spat, giving up.

"You're telling me."

Anderson stood up straight and dropped the nasal quality from his voice to speak in a perfectly respectable baritone. "So shall we end this vignette?"

"…Yeah, okay," Sherlock said, and walked out the door.

 

*Something about that place turned people awfully doggish. It had been like that for years. Nobody really knew why.


End file.
